When Her Eyes are Brown
by Box Cutter Symphony
Summary: She was only a woman after all. GrimxMandy. !ABANDONED!
1. Prologue

A/N: I'm thinking about making this the first chapter in a story. That is, unless I can't thing of anything to write about.

It wasn't right. She was too young in her ten years, her eyes too blue, and her stature too compact. Past the glaring eyebrows and piercing stare, and past all of the bestial, ugly things that were constantly filtering through her brain, it was blindingly apparent. She was a child. At night (I was almost certain that this was a fact, despite her demeanor) she dreamt of beautiful meadows and a gentle breeze, deities running rampant behind her lidded eyes.

And I would be there when she awoke, observing her from the darkest corner of her bedroom. I'd have been with her all night, watching patiently as her eyes twitched slightly as she dreamt her childish dreams, and hoping desperately that that boy would not awaken on the other side of the street to find me gone.

She was a beautiful girl, but a child none the less. And that was one thing that he was never going to let myself forget.

No matter how my fingertips yearned for the velvet of her pale skin.

(She's A Child)

No matter how I wished to taste her strawberry lips.

(She's A Child)

And no matter how strongly I ached for that beautiful golden hair to be draped softly over my pillow, she was still just a child, and a malicious overbearing one at that.

That rotting thing in my chest never really seemed to listen, always leaping back to life whenever she passed by. Whenever I caught that honey sweet scent that would drift with her through the air. But then it clenched and died once more when she was gone. If it kept growing and shrinking, beating then stopping, I knew my ribs would eventually snap under the strain. I wasn't used to having a heart. It was irritating, the subtle changes in my body and mind when she was near. It was like being out of control. Like standing on the edge of a cliff with the wind blowing demons at your back. I often found myself angry over my weakness for her, my inability to refuse her demands whenever she set those beautiful eyes upon me, no matter what emotion they displayed.

As the years passed slowly by I saw the blue gradually fading those frozen eyes. Her childhood stole away from her in leaps and bounds and she didn't move an inch to catch up. She didn't seemed at all fazed by her changing body, feeling neither frustrated or happy about her transformation. No matter how drastically her body changed, for that little girl to be an almost woman, her glossy eyes remained the same. Though by then the blue had almost faded from them completely, her eyes still retained the glowing harshness that kept me planted by her side, inches away, miles away. And through those inches I can see her clearly, my fingertips once again ache for a taste of her skin, because she's not really a child anymore, only somewhat, but I still can't bring myself to touch her of my own accord.

Through those same miles I cannot breathe her honey scent, and her golden hair seems like the sun, burning brightly over that hilltop she said she didn't like. Because she doesn't love. Doesn't love. Never loved and the way she stared at me sometimes, that silent look of admiration always quickly replaced, never really meant anything. She wasn't mine to take, even as an older child, even as she pressed up against me on those nights when she beckoned my shadow from the corner of her room. She is not mine. She is no one's. She is oxygen. She is fire that burns everything in sight.


	2. Obsession

A/N PLEASE READ!! This chapter really isn't finished yet, but it's been over a month since I've updated so I thought that I really should put something up because I didn't want it to end up like my ed edd n eddy story...O.O. Any way... I'll fix this chapter once I finish it. Honestly I have been working on this whenever I can, but I always have a serious case of writer's block. If you're impatient with my updates, adding me on myspace would be a really good idea (there are two links to it on my profile here) because I post most of my stuff onto my blog as I type it up. Sorry for the delay.

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When Her Eyes are Brown

Chapter 1

Obsession

I watch her as she floats, clad in a dusty purple nightgown much too large for her slight frame, her feet padding delicately across the cold blue tile flooring towards the refrigerator. Her pale arm rises upwards, a sluggish movement too unlike her footsteps, to take it's fragile perch on the door handle. A gentle tug and it flies open. I see her blonde head bob up and down as she searches the innards of a food's frozen prison until her eyes catch on what she had been looking for. Thin fingers wrap around a cool light yellow box, her other hand gripping a tall milk carton.

"Grim," she murmurs, a light croak from deep within her throat as if sleep were still slung over her head, while holding up the box so that I might take it from her, "make me some eggs," A simple command made in simple words, and yet it still sets my heart fluttering. Silently, I comply.

The stove turns on with a dull click, blue flames leaping to life from underneath the black pan that I had found somewhere. I can see her from the corner of my eye as she walks, as silent as the night, to her breakfast table, carton in hand. I know what she is expecting from me, so I crack three eggs into the pan before handing her that glass she wanted. "Good dog," she's probably thinking as she fills that glass to the brim, "good slave." Her lips flow smoothly over the edge, tossing back the cold white liquid in one quick gulp. Disgusting and yet fascinating, one of those things you can't look away from no matter how revolting or gruesome it may be. She sighs in contentment.

Minutes slowly pass and I can feel the air changing. She is growing impatient, her nails tapping the table menacingly. As quickly as I can, I gather her meal onto a fresh plate and pass it to her, switching off the flames with one quick swoop of my hand. I sit down across from her and watch as she eats, enjoying the quiet time between commands. She downs the food in quick bites that of which almost rival Billy's in speed and inaccuracy. Obviously, she doesn't care what she looks like to me. She glances at up me, and I quickly make sure that it is repulsion and not fascination that has surfaced on my face.

"Haven't you ever heard of manners?" I complain, locking eyes with her before she could direct her sight back to her plate. A once empty gaze turns rapidly to a cold stare. My stomach drops, a deer in headlights…Shit. With eyes like that she can freeze over hell.

I sit still and wait for a beating, but nothing comes, she doesn't even utter a sound. She simply wipes her mouth and leaves the room, her nightgown brushing the ground behind her like a train. Leaving me there to fester and wonder what that was all about. Nothing comes to mind. Maybe she wants me to wonder. I've learned by now not to ask.

I sigh and set myself off to clean up the mess she left behind in her wake, again promising that the next time she stares at me like that my heart won't jump. I'll be calm, I'll hold my ground and glare back like I used to. She is not worthy of my affection. I nod to myself as I wipe the table clean. She will not get the better of me. A smile finds it way to my face and I truly believe, completely, entirely with my stupid heart, that it'll work. But as that girl stomps down the stairs before me, as she throws something hard at my head and disappears completely from sight for who knows how long, I feel myself shrink to nothing but an ant beneath her feet. At that very moment I know for sure that I'll let her do whatever she wants to me.

And I hate myself for it.


	3. Foreshadow

A/N: I'm sorry. For now this story is hiatus. I didn't put much planning into it, and since I began home schooling I didn't have a study hall to write in. I can't really write at home XD (and I'm also really bad at finishing things that I start.). I'm going to college starting this fall, having graduated a year early, so hopefully then I'll be able to pick this story back up.

But to tide you over until then, here's a little bit of the story that I'd written over a year ago (unfinished as it is).

"I've been doing some research recently," Mandy states out of the dead silence, "and it turns out that in some ancient civilization Nergal was the god of the underworld."

"Yeah, so?" I mutter into the newspaper that I hold over my face, a feeling of dread beginning to take over my body.

"We know a Nergal."

"And he's too much of a coward to even think about ruling the underworld,"

"He has a son named Nergal…" I put my paper down on the end table and lean forward in my seat in order to stare directly into her eyes.

"Just what are you getting at?"

"Junior is a much more determined and black hearted man than his father. If anyone were to take over the underworld…it would be him," Her black eyes ripple with implications.

"So you're predicting the future then?" I scoff at her, trying desperately to lighten the look in her eyes. She's plotting...Something of an amused smirk flickers across Mandy's face.

"Let's call it foreshadowing,"


End file.
